A Girl and Her Hellhound
by ButterfliesforHeartbeats
Summary: "As the boys drove back to the bunker, they didn't say much. They were both too preoccupied with blind girls feeding their werewolf fathers silver and keeping hellhounds as pets for that." Lea (OC) is thrown into the supernatural world as the hunted, and goes to the Winchesters for help. Sam knows how it feels to be a grey area.
1. Chapter 1

"You boys are bloody brilliant, you know that?" Cocky, British, a little nasally - annoying and generally exactly where he didn't need to be - of course it was Crowley.

The Winchester brothers were in a house, cleaning up after fighting off a rogue werewolf. Classic hunt, really, which was nice. All of the anarchy, conspiracy theories, mental, emotional crap otherwise had been giving Dean a headache alcohol and coffee only made worse - and he wasn't sure how to deal with that exactly.

"Get lost," Dean offered succinctly. Crowley gave him a sarcastic wrinkle of his nose and proceeded to ignore him. Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam shrugged his shoulders and continued cleaning his knife.

"You two are missing something, of course," Crowley was muttering, wandering around the room until coming to a stop in front of the coat closet adjacent to the hall. "Aha," He looked back at them, the smug 'why didn't you think of this' look scrawled on his face as he flung the door open.

Inside the closet, on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees, was a girl. She seemed to be about 18 years old, with short curly auburn hair highlighted almost white on top, and blacked out sunglasses over her eyes. She was sniffing a little, and shaking slightly, in a large sweater and slightly baggy jeans.

"It's about time," She said shakily, and paused. "Is it… is it over?" Sam immediately got up and approached her.

"You're Lea, aren't you? Um… His daughter?" She snorted when he hesitated, but nodded.

"Is it done?" She repeated. Sam bent down in front of her. With the glasses, he assumed she was blind, but it seemed as though she was looking directly at him.

"Yeah," He said gently. "So you knew…"

"He was a werewolf? Yeah. I've been putting silver shavings in his food and water for months - kept it weak, but… Well, I guess he couldn't hold it off forever." Dean looked over, surprised.

Sam sighed, watching her sympathetically. "Listen, why don't you come out of there?" He asked, extending his hand. She instantly shrunk away from it.

"No - no thanks, I'd rather… stay here for now." She said, folding in on herself.

"It's okay, we won't hurt you," Sam tried to reassure her. "My brother and I -"

"Are hunters, you're here to help, I got it. That's not my problem. I'd just - rather not." She paused, maybe grasping for words. "Don't exactly want to step in any of dad's… um… extremities, or remains, I guess."

Sam winced. "I'm really sorry -"

She cut him off again. "No, I know. I came to terms with the fact that I lost my dad months ago. Just… finish cleaning up or whatever, don't worry about me."

Sam could feel his face pinched up with worry, but decided not to push it and stepped away. She fell very still and quiet again as he returned to Dean.

"What do you think?" He asked quietly. Dean shrugged.

"Whatever she says, kid's grieving. Maybe hiding in a closet's better than alcohol, for all I know. She's probably not legal for anything else yet. Leave her be." Sam agreed and helped finish mopping up the blood.

Crowley stayed, beside the door, watching the girl curiously.

The brothers finished soon and stopped by the closet where the girl still was on their way out. They glowered at Crowley, who twiddled his fingers at them and Dean turned to Lea.

"Kid, you got… family who can take care of you? Place to stay, stuff like that?"

Lea snorted. "I'm almost nineteen," she told him.

"Not what I asked." He shot back.

"Fine. Yeah, a state over. And I know how to work a phone. They knew about dad's... thing, so I can tell them."

Sam and Dean shrugged before Dean turned to Crowley. "Well?"

Crowley lifted an eyebrow. "Well, what?"

"You're still here for some reason. Make yourself useful. I don't know… give her something. Protection."

"What do you expect? If you haven't noticed, it's usually the upstairs involved in the guard business."

"Then what are you doing here, Crowley?" Sam sighed.

"Well, now you mention it, I guess I can give her a little something… Because you asked so nicely, of course."

Dean looked up, blinking in surprise. Him and his own big mouth. "What?" He said. "What the hell?"

Crowley smirked. "Exactly." He popped away and back again, only this time with a snorting empty space he was petting beside him.

"What. The. Hell." Dean repeated, pulling out his knife again. Sam easily slung the shotgun around in his hands.

"Relax, boys." Crowley groaned. "Sure, my dogs like chewing things up, but their main purpose is to guard. That's what you asked for, right?"

"Why, Crowley?" Sam asked sharply.

"Easy, moose. My hound's never had a huan charge before. Color me curious. He won't harm her - he'll obey any of her commands in fact, so most likely no dead relatives, either. Impressed yet?" They looked at him blankly, until he rolled his eyes. "Watch. Hey, sweetheart, call for the pup, will you? My very own pet just for you, yeah?"

Lea had been studiously ignoring them up until that point. She sighed before whistling and clicking her tongue.

"Here, boy, come here! Here!" She sounded awfully sarcastic, before she let out a quick scream.

Sam and Dean both jumped and watched her closely, but her hands were stretched out in front of her, as if she was petting it.

"See?" Crowley said, turning their attention back to him.

"Crowley, if this stinking mess starts thinking about going wrong, I'll be pulling my own little play thing right out of your ass."

"Oh Dean, you certainly have a way with words. What a charmer."

"You don't just use humans as guinea pigs, Crowley. Especially kids." Sam said.

"I'm eighteen." Came Lea's voice, a little muffled.

Crowley motioned to her. "She's eighteen," He repeated. "And yes… I do. But this won't harm her, so at this point it's really her choice anyway, isn't it?" Playing the 'free will' card seemed pretty low. They stopped for a minute, watching Lea petting the air that took the slight shape of a hound, the way her hands were moving. "It's just a pup, anyway. She can train it up any way she likes."

"I'll be fine," Lea cut in. "Don't have to worry about me."

"Yeah, well… Whatever." Dean mumbled, shifting his feet uncomfortable. "Listen, kid, I don't like leaving you here alone -" Lea turned and again stared somehow directly at him, a blank look almost daring him to continue on her face. "I was going to suggest," He began forcefully, "That we give you our numbers or something, but.."

"I have a good memory." She answered. "If you just tell me your number or address or whatever you want to give me, I'll remember."

He made her repeat both the address and number multiple times before he was satisfied, but soon they felt comfortable enough to leave - or until they felt like they had to. Crowley had popped out a while ago, with another few promises that the hellhound wouldn't hurt her, and a few reminders that he was king of the crossroads, promise keeper extraordinare, but they had eventually let him leave the hound there as well.

As the boys drove back to the bunker, they didn't say much. They were both too preoccupied with blind girls feeding their werewolf fathers silver and keeping hellhounds as pets for that.


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N) Hi! Thanks to those of you who reviewed: It means so much! I'm glad you like it so far :) If anyone would be willing to give me some critiques on style, etc, then please don't hesitate, either! Otherwise, I'm hoping to update this story about once a week. I think that'll give me enough time to write and edit each new chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Two weeks later, the boys got a call.

"Yeah," Dean said, a little short.

"Hay… Um, it's Lea, from a week ago? Werewolf?" A voice began shyly.

"... Yeah." Dean said, when the other end of the line went quiet.

"Oh, um - I was wondering if your offer for a place to stay was still on the table?"

He quickly shut out an image of Kevin walking through the bunker's door. "... Kid, it wasn't… exactly an invitation, more like a 'come here if something's after you.' Speaking of which, hellhound situation?"

"Oh… Oh, yeah, he's fine, it's fine. I just…"

"Something wrong, kid?" Dean asked, this time a little more quietly.

"Not exactly, I mean. Yeah, not… not really."

"Listen, kid -"

"No, it's okay, thanks for talking. Bye."

Dean pulled the phone away and looked at the screen in surprise, Sam watching him expectantly.

"Everything ok?" Sam asked.

"Yeah… Yeah, it was that kid Lea from two weeks back, the werewolf thing. She was… well, I don't really know."

Sam looked curious, but shrugged. "Let's give her some time, call back tomorrow and check in or something, I don't know."

"Yeah, sounds like a plan."

The next morning, early - Sam had already showered from his run, but Dean hadn't gotten up yet - there was a tentative knock on the door. Sam grabbed his handgun from a lamp table, just to be safe, and ascended the staircase. When he opened the door, however, he almost dropped the gun in his haste to turn the safety on and shove it down the back on his jeans.

"Lea?" He asked, opening the door fully this time. The girl standing in front of him (above average in height, now that she was standing, he thought) looked tired. Her broad shoulders were slumped, her t-shirt was wrinkled and her jacket still had the hood tucked inside. Her hair was only a little wild, held out of her face with a bandana. She had one hand resting on a suitcase.

"Yeah… Sam?" She responded, her voice rasping a little.

"Yeah, yeah, that's me. What's wrong?"

"I… Need a place to crash." She admitted.

"What… happened to your family?"

"They agree." She answered haltingly.

Sam gnawed on his lip slightly before shaking himself awake. "Yeah, sure - come on in. You need me to get you something?"

"No thank you." She answered, following him inside.

Sam took her suitcase for her as she walked carefully forward. "Are there… devil's traps?" She asked, standing on the threshold.

"Oh, um, not here." Sam answered. "Do you have… it… with you?"

"My hellhound? Yes. His name is Oscar." She answered, smiling. When she walked forward, he suddenly, hesitantly, wondered if he should help. He reached out his hands, hunching his shoulders self consciously.

"Do you need… help? With the stairs?" He asked.

"That's ok," She answered, patting the empty space which held a quiet hellhound beside her. "Oscar's smarter than most help dogs. I'm safe."

Uneasy but accepting, Sam backed away.

"Could you lead the way, maybe? Oscar'll follow you."

"Yeah, sure," Sam said, quickly grabbing her bag and carrying it downstairs. "Do you need something? Coffee? Breakfast? I got yogurt from a place in town this morning, and Dean made me pick up eggs, bacon and hashbrowns last week. We've still got some left." He almost realized that he was rambling while he put her bag down and guided her to a seat.

"Coffee'd be great. Milk and sugar?" She answered.

"Yeah, sure. Be right back." He ran to the kitchen and poured her a cup, fixed it accordingly and brought it back. "Here you go." He told her, setting it a little more loudly on the table than he normally did, hoping she could tell how close it was to her by the noise. He then settled next to her.

"So what's wrong?" He asked, grabbing his own half empty cup of coffee.

"I haven't been totally honest with you… Or, I just sort of… withheld information. You all assumed and I let you, because I thought, 'what's the harm?' because that's what I've let everybody else think and it's worked so far, right?" She took a deep breath. "Listen," She began much more slowly. "I'm not… really blind."

He was probably looking at her strangely, as she took off her thick, blacked out glasses. Her eyes were still closed at first. She was wearing no makeup, but her lashes were thick, dark smudges. Then she looked up at Sam.

Her eyes were shocking. They were solidly iridescent blue. She had no pupils, no irises. The entirety of her eyes were a brilliant, shining blue, as if they had been replaced by smoothly polished crystal. They seemed to shine, as well, casting an unearthly tint to her face, but perhaps they were catching the light in the bunker.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"A man came to my house one day. I was eleven. He said he was from the school system and needed to speak with me. Instead, he just swooped me up and pop, we were gone. He brought me to this room… It was warm, and rustic looking, with a big fireplace. In front of the fireplace was a bathtub. In the bathtub was a shimmery, thick looking watery substance. The man took off my clothes and put me in the water, all the way under. He bathed me in it.

"After he bathed me, he took me out and put me in my clothes again. Then, he took an eyedropper, and put something on my eyes. Then he took me home. But when I looked at him again, all I saw was a brilliant white light, kind of formed into four heads and six wings. It looked too huge to fit in my house, but it did, somehow. Then, he was gone.

"When my parents found me, they saw that my eyes had changed. My dad comes from a family of hunters, and started doing research. No one found anything. It didn't take away my sight, it gave me more. I could see things. Mostly, they were monsters. Some peoples' faces were decaying. Some people weren't people at all. And then, sometimes, I saw the bright people again. With the faces and the wings. I think they're angels. And I can see Oscar.

"I think that's why Crowley gave him to me. He knew. Somehow. Even though my parents did what they could to hide it, some people - especially from dad's past - found out. I guess I'm considered a grey area." She smiled ruefully.

"Your dad was still connected to the hunter's community?" Sam asked softly.

"Sort of, yeah." She answered. "It got really dark for a while. We got so desperate that dad figured he could use all the extra strength he could find. So, he hunted down the nearest werewolf." She fell quiet, rubbing her forehead tiredly. Her face pinched in places which belied her grief and pain. "We thought he could control it if I fed him silver, keep it weaker." She laughed darkly. "Obviously, that didn't work out.

"Mom isn't from that world. Your world. My world now, I guess. When dad turned, she moved back up with her parents. I can't put her in danger like that again. So… I came to you. You're the only person I know who can help me. Dad heard stories about you guys. Said a lot of hunters weren't happy because you seemed to blur lines..." She hesitated, voice weak. There was a part of her that was resigned, and another that desperately needed the hope she felt. "I know I'm a grey area. But can you help me?"

"Yes." Sam answered, without hesitation. "Yeah, we can help."

When Dean rolled out of bed an hour later, took a shower and went to the kitchen, he walked directly past Sam and Lea the first time through. He was in the middle of fixing his coffee before he realized that Sam was not alone with his books or internet, but that he was laughing. With a girl. Quickly, he took a gulp of half-doctored coffee - no sugar, and he grimaced - before quickly heading into the other room.

Sam and Lea sputtered to a stop when they noticed Dean standing in the doorway, and Lea quickly put her glasses back on, self conscious.

"Excuse me." Dean began, sarcastic. "Can I ask what reunion party I wasn't invited to this time?"

Sam looked up eagerly. "Dean, it's Lea. From a few weeks ago, remember?" Dean glanced over at her quickly.

"Yeah, phone call from yesterday. Why?" She thought he hadn't meant to be mean. Hopefully.

"She needs help, Dean. There was more to her story than a lone wolf." Sam thought about his words and quickly turned to offer an apology. She smiled complacently and accepted it.

"Right. What day is it?" Dean asked, rubbing his brow.

"Thursday," Lea answered quickly.

"Of course," he grumbled, and turned back around to get his coffee.


	3. Chapter 3

"You have any ideas what it might be that he put you in?" Dean asked, settling at the table across from her with another mug of coffee.

"We never got the chance to do any major research. Dad had all the contacts, but they were the ones trying to kill me. Otherwise, we were exhausted every resource we had - mainly internet and library. What else could we do?" The boys both nodded, before Dean took a breath.

"Listen. I get it: you're struggling to come to terms with your new superpowers, probably having a big existential crisis over how you're a grey area - why come to us? Out there, you're a poor blind kid. In here, you're a hell of a lot more than that."

"Because I'm being hunted again." Sam looked up, alarmed.

Dean rubbed his coffee cup between his hands and asked, "Why?"

She looked at him blankly. "Because word got out my dad was a werewolf. And now I have a pet hellhound. My grey area is looking just a teeny bit darker now." Dean conceded, though a stray thought about having two bitch faces to deal with crossed his mind.

"Right. How's… uh, that going, by the way?" He glanced around, unfortunately in vain, for a sign of the hellhound.

"Oscar's fine. He hasn't chewed anyone's face off or anything yet. Although he could use a bath… Anyway, I came to you for help. Advice. Can you help me figure out what's happened to me? Somehow get the hunters off my tail? I have a motel to go to, and Oscar's capable of protecting me, but…" She sat herself up a little straighter, spoke more forcefully. "I am not a killer, and neither is Oscar. I'd like to keep it that way."

"You can stay here." Dean answered. "And I think I know what happened to you." Sam mentioned.

Lee sat for a moment, stunned, before sagging. "Really?" She asked shakily, her voice very quiet.

"Yeah," They both answered. Lee laughed a little, and pet the head of the the invisible dog that bumped its snout against her hand.

Lee was putting her things in a spare room of the bunker, talking to her mom. Sam was gathering books, and Dean had a piece of freshly cooked bacon hanging out of his month at the table. "Sph whetd th cerpeeh berd gur pter eh?" Sam shot Dean a look over his stack of books. Dean finished the bacon before trying to speak again.

"What happened to her?"

Sam gave him another look that told him he knew that wasn't what Dean said the first time he answered anyway. "The first trial, Dean." He answered, pausing to put the books down. "The stuff we put on the glasses, that helped us see the hellhounds?" Dean looked mildly disturbed.

"Somebody stole our recipe and decided it needed more human?"

"No, Dean. What happened to Lee happened years ago. Eight years ago, in fact. If anything, we got the pirated version. And apparently, the real deal doesn't help you see hellhounds. The true faces of everything. Monsters, angels, demons, probably ghosts, everything."

"We don't only have a grey area then, Sammy."

"We have a sentient pair of fixed up glasses."

"You think she's thought about that?"

"That hunters might not just want to kill her, but use her as a metal detector for monsters? Come on, Dean. She's smart, but…. not like that."

"Yea, I figured." They paused, Sam opening up a few of the books he had used when researching the first trial, Dean finishing up a second cup of coffee until he suddenly looked up again.

"You know, Sammy, I think I just figured out how to get the hunters off her trail."

Sam looked up. "Yeah?" Dean grinned.

"Yeah." He got up and left the room. A minute later, Lee came back in holding a phone in her hand.

"Hay," She offered, and little uncertain.

"Hay," He responded. "So, I think I can tell you pretty much for certain what happened to you. Just not… By whom."

"Really?" She asked, quickly sliding down in the seat across from him.

"Yeah. See a while ago, Dean and I were… well, it was complicated. We were basically on a hunt that involved getting through hellhounds. So we got the formula for this substance that we dipped glasses into. As long as we had the glasses on, we could see the hellhounds. I think it was this - potion, I guess - that whoever kidnapped you put in your eyes." He slid over a paper with the mixture's ingredients.

"And the bath?" She asked, though she seemed preoccupied as she took the paper.

"Could have been the same stuff. More than likely, however, I would guess that it was a sort of cleansing ritual. Who knows, though." He answered. She nodded her understanding, then put the paper down.

"Thank you," She told him sincerely. "Thank you so much for all you and Dean are doing for me. You have no idea. My mom was so relieved when she heard someone was looking out for me." She grinned. Sam smiled back at her.

"Don't mention it. To be honest, I know how you feel. I know what it's like to be hunted for something that happened to you. If it wasn't for Dean, I wouldn't be here today. Glad I can return the favor." She grinned at him, deep blue eyes shimmering a little. It was probably the light.

"So! Is there anything else you guys are working on? Can I help?" She asked, her voice lighter than Sam had ever heard it.

"Right now, just yours." He answered.

"Oh…" She said, looking away.

"But I've been needing to go to the farmer's market for a while, want to come with me in the morning?" She laughed, but sounded excited.

"Totally."

"Cool." They drifted off for a few minutes.

"Hay Sam," Lee began thoughtfully.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"Can I give Oscar a bath?"

"Sure, but I wouldn't tell Dean."

She laughed while she skipped down the hallway, and Sam shook his head.


End file.
